Red Eye to Los Angeles
by KatFenn
Summary: The standard disclaimers apply. Cait goes undercover for Michael but gets into trouble. In the meantime, Karen moves to LA!
1. Chapter 1

**Red Eye to Los Angeles**

By Kat Fenn

The standard disclaimers apply, these characters don't belong to me – thank you Mr Bellisario for dreaming them up!

A/N: This story follows: Welcome to South Africa, Happy Birthday and My Portugese Connection.

**Chapter 1**

Caitlin O'Shaughnessy stared at the ringing telephone with hatred in her heart. She hadn't even had a chance to run to the bathroom all afternoon. Why oh why did the phone only ring off the hook when it was just her manning the office? She chewed her lip. "_Aw, stuff it_!" she thought to herself, launching herself out of the chair in the direction of the bathroom.

Suppressing a sigh of relief as she emptied her bladder, Cait quickly zipped up the front of her bright red flightsuit and scurried back to her desk. As she was about two feet from the desk. The telephone rang again. Sighing, this time in annoyance, Cait took a deep breath as she snatched the phone from its cradle.

"Santini Air," said Cait, as she sat down, adjusting the phone wires.

"Cait? It's Michael. I was just checking if anyone was there, I'm on my way over there." Cait bristled a little at his flat, factual tone.

"Hang on just a sec, Michael. Dom and String are off doing a stunt and won't be back till late tonight, or maybe even tomorrow morning."

"That's OK, it was you I was looking for anyway…I'll see you in about ten minutes." The line went dead.

Cait stood for a moment, frozen in shock. Her? Michael wanted to speak to HER? Not String?

"Hello? I have a delivery for Mr Dominic Santini," called out an unfamiliar voice, startling Cait.

"I'm comin' right out," yelled Cait, coming back to her senses. She cradled the receiver and made her way round the desk, with its towering pile of paperwork which she promised Dom she would try to get through before the both of them got back.

Making her way to the passage in front of the door which led into the main parking lot of Santini Air, Cait quickly signed for the thickly padded envelope and dismissed the delivery boy with the two crumpled dollar bills she found in her pocket.

Cait determinedly made her way back to the desk. Well, if Michael was prompt (and he usually was) she had eight minutes. She could, in the eight minutes, sort through the pile of paperwork into things to be filed, things that she could do at home, and things that HAD to be done while she was at the office. After Michael left and the filing was done, she would then reward herself with a juicy cheeseburger and beer at McGilray's on her way back to her apartment before settling in for the night with the remainder of the paperwork. "That's the plan!" she crowed delightedly to the empty office, pulling out the plastic in-trays she used for filing.

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

"Take ten, everybody!" bellowed the Director through his megaphone. Brushing the back of his hand against his sweaty brow, String breathed a sigh of relief to himself. He smiled his thanks at Dom, who at that moment scurried up with a cold bottle of lemonade and pressed it into his hand.

"So we ready for the stunt in the next scene, kid?" Dom pulled out a bright red hanky from his trouser pocket and wiped his forehead. He was already dressed in his all-black costume and held a black woollen balaclava in his hand.

"Yeah. Just need to get changed," said String, looking at the black clothes in distaste. It was swelteringly hot and humid on set, and himself and Dom were playing robbers staging a getaway in a typical cop movie. The stunt called for Dom to hold the helicopter steady whilst String made his way out of the window of a moving car and onto the right skid of Dom's chopper and hung on for dear life until the Director called cut. Of course, he would be dressed in all black with a black balaclava on his head – "_Don't bloody robbers have any more sense than to wear black in the sweltering heat_?" he thought sourly to himself, as he slurped the last of the ice-cold lemonade from the bottle.

"Just one take, kid, and we're outta here," said Dom in an undertone. "Before I die of heatstroke," he added.

"Aw, c'mon Dom, you gotta stay alive till next week – otherwise you'll miss Karen coming! Besides, you're in the chopper – you can always fly with the window open. That'll keep you cool, at least," said String, winking at Dom. His girlfriend, Karen, would be moving to LA the following week from South Africa and he knew that Dom was looking forward to having some extra help in the office. Cait did very well with the paperwork, but Dom had discussed expanding the school part of Santini Air with him, and was hoping that both String and Cait would take on more students. He smiled to himself at the memory of Dom clapping him on the back as he guffawed at String's sour expression, topped with his customary eyebrow quirk, in between reassuring his young friend that he would keep his contribution to teaching to a minimum.

"Mr Santini, Mr Hawke? The Director wants you on the set and ready to go," said a runner, panting.

"Sure thing, we'll be there in a jiffy," said Dom.

String sighed as he trotted to the little trailer they had been allotted, unfastening his shirt buttons and jeans zipper as he went.

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**


	2. Chapter 2

**Red Eye to Los Angeles**

By Kat Fenn

A/N: My apologies for taking so long to post, I promise life will be back to its normal scheduled programming soon and so will my writing!

**Chapter 2**

Cait looked up, startled, as Michael swept into the office. She had been so engrossed that she hadn't heard him come in through either the hangar or the front doors leading from the parking area out front.

"What's the matter, Cait, guilty conscience?" grinned Michael, as he made himself comfortable on the leather visitor's chair, and crossed his legs. Marella tried to hide a smile behind her hand.

"No, you just startled me, that's all!" said Cait, trying hard to hide the blush that crept up the back of her neck. She turned to put the now-empty in-trays back into the cupboard where they usually lived, and empty the one remaining in-tray holding the items she planned to do at home that night into her backpack, before turning back to Michael and Marella, with what she hoped was a more composed façade.

"So what's this in aid of? String and Dom won't be back for a couple more hours."

"It's you I need to speak to, Cait."

"Well, I'm right here, so speak…" Cait's voice trailed away as Marella handed her a thick cream folder.

"We need your help."

"_Uh oh, here we go_," thought Cait to herself. Aloud she said, "OK, I'm listening."

"We think someone's trying to steal a new superweapon we're working on, and we have a mole in the Firm that we need to flush out."

"So we need you to go undercover," added Marella. "At the Firm. All the details you need for your cover are in the envelope."

"Hey, just hang on a danged minute! I haven't said yes yet, and last time I checked I didn't work for you!" exclaimed Cait, inwardly excited that she had been picked for the mission over String and Dom.

"Cait, you would be perfect for the job. Plus I'm sure Dom and String could spare you for a couple of days? Besides, weren't you the one who was complaining the other day about wanting a bit more excitement in your life?" cajoled Marella.

"So what's in it for me?" asked Cait.

"Eternal fame and glory?" said Michael dryly, looking quizzically at Cait while stroking his chin with his left hand.

Cait looked at the two white-clad agents for a moment. She considered her choices, then decided that it would be a mistake for her to agree so quickly. "I'd need to talk to Dom and String, first. I am on Dom's dime, after all."

"If it's your salary you're worrying about, don't worry – we'll make arrangements for the Firm to reimburse you personally for the days you are away. Besides, I'm sure String and Dom wouldn't mind too much – the superweapon we're working on is a new laser for Airwolf."

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

Karen sighed to herself. The last of the boxes going into storage had been loaded into the van she had borrowed for the day. The rest of her little apartment looked empty and forlorn. The clothes she was taking with her, together with the small gifts Nuno and Maria had sent for String, were neatly packed in the two burgundy-coloured suitcases. All she needed to do the next day was to pack her toiletries and she was ready to go. She hugged herself in glee. She couldn't believe the day was finally here – tomorrow she would board a plane (or planes) for LA – and String. She was looking forward to starting a new life in LA. She had always secretly craved adventure, and the idea of finding out for sure if String and her had a future together was indeed an adventure – plus the thought of finding somewhere new to teach, as well as starting work at Santini Air.

The sharp buzz of the doorbell startled her. "Skaaterboll*, it's us!" called out her mother.

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

"Thank you!" said Cait, as the waitress put down a plate holding her order of cheeseburger and fries, with a big dollop of fiery bean chilli on the top, just the way she liked it. She waited till the waitress walked away before she reopened the cream file in front of her.

She had to admit, the information contained in the folder intrigued her. It was a case that she would love to sink her teeth into. Much as she loved her job at Santini Air, most days it was mundane, to say the least. This, would give her brain a much needed stretch. She would go undercover as an HR consultant under the guise of improving inter-departmental relations. Although the mole was suspected to be someone who was directly involved in the research and development of the laser, it was a distinct possibility that the trail would lead her into other departments, like testing or manufacturing. She smiled as she remembered what both String and Dom had said to her, earlier on that evening.

"Well, we can't tell you what to do or what not to do," String had said, economic with his words as usual. "Just be careful. Do your check-ins so we know you're OK, and don't be a hero."

"Besides, Karen will be here the day after tomorrow, so we'll be fine here. Besides, if the payoff is a new toy for the Lady, I'm not going to say no," Dom had added, with a big belly laugh.

Cait had promised to make sure that Karen knew how the paperwork system worked at Santini Air when she arrived, and given them both a hug and a peck on the cheek. "I'll be back before you know it," she had said brightly.

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

* A South African term of endearment


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dom sighed as he sat down in his chair. He opened up the folder marked 'To Sign' in his in-tray and picked up his pen. He perched his glasses on his nose and began to scan through the small sheaf of documents that Cait had left for him. Signing his name with a flourish, he put the sheets back into the folder and dumped the folder in his out-tray. He then picked up the only remaining item in his in-tray – the envelope. Cait hadn't opened it, and it wasn't marked urgent. The sound of the door leading from the carpark opening startled him. "_Mamma mia, is that the time_?" he muttered to himself. Irritated that he wasn't QUITE able to clear his in-tray before his student arrived, Dom shoved the envelope into his out-tray and made his way round his desk. He supposed whatever it was could wait.

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

Dom scratched worriedly at the wiry grey curls that stuck out every which way. Cait was due to check in at 6pm every day. It was now 6.30pm and still nothing. "_I'll give her five minutes, if she doesn't check in I'll radio String_," he thought to himself. A frown wrinkled his brow. He really didn't want to intrude on String and Karen's evening. Karen had only arrived in LA two days ago, and spent the day before in the office with Cait. She was due to start at Santini Air the next day. He couldn't believe how much he missed Cait – she had only been gone less than a day, but…somehow he felt like something was missing. It wasn't that he didn't like Karen…she just wasn't Cait. Looking at his watch again, Dom squared his shoulders. He couldn't help but worry about Cait – she was always prompt and the fact that she was almost forty minutes late for a check-in left a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. Picking up the receiver, he dialled in the number for the satellite phone that String kept at the cabin.

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

"Are you sure you don't want me to come along? I can help – sit and wait by the phone, make you guys coffee…" Karen's voice trailed away.

String shouldered his packed rucksack and turned around to take Karen in his arms. "Karen, I don't want you to worry. I'm sure it's nothing – just Dom being a mother hen, I suspect. I'll be back before you know it, and I'll keep you posted by phone." He looked into her deep brown eyes, trying to reassure her with a smile.

Karen looked up into his piercing blue eyes. "I don't want to be in the way. Don't worry about me, I've got lots to do, what with unpacking and everything. But you will let me know if I can help? In any way?"

"Of course I will. I think I'd better get going – Dom can be such a worrier." String lightly caressed her cheek with his rough thumb and pecked her on the lips. "Keep the home fires burning," he said, as he grabbed his well-worn leather jacket off the peg by the door where it normally lived.

Karen looked through the little window at String's retreating back. She watched as his dark, lithe figure made its way down the winding path to the dock, where a Santini Air Jet Ranger sat. "_Don't be silly_," she told herself fiercely, fighting back tears. "_I'm sure Cait's absolutely fine_." And tried to ignore the nagging voice at the back of her mind that kept reminding her that this was only her second night in LA and was this where she was really meant to be and whom she was meant to be with? Karen swallowed hard on the lump in her throat. What would she do if String didn't come back?

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

"Whaddaya mean, Archangel isn't available?" demanded Dom, his indignant voice booming down the speakerphone. "What about Marella?"

"Marella isn't here either, sir. Can I not take a message for you, or help you myself?" said the anonymous female voice.

String scratched absently at his chin. This definitely wasn't good. He'd arrived a few short minutes ago to find Dom pacing, waiting impatiently for his arrival.

"Any ideas when Archangel or Marella will be back?" String said in what he hoped was a calm voice, putting a steadying hand on Dom's shoulder.

"No, sir. He left word that he would be available on his satellite phone, and Marella flew him to his meeting. I haven't seen them since, well, 1330 hours, I would say."

"Thank you." String pressed the button that deactivated the call. Turning on the speakerphone again, he dialled the number for Michael's satellite phone.

Dom resisted the urge to drum his fingers impatiently on the table top. String stood with his arms braced against the desk top, face set in his habitual mask. After twenty rings with no answer, the statue that was String reached out and deactivated the call. Turning to Dom, he said, "C'mon."

Dom grabbed his small duffel bag and made his way to the other Jet Ranger, as he scrabbled in his pocket for the remote that would open the hangar doors. "I've already done a pre-flight and fuelled the tanks while waiting for you. She's ready to go."

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

Dom sneaked a glance or two at String whilst they flew towards the Lair. His face was his usual unreadable mask, his head, hands and feet moving almost instinctively as he pushed the maximum amount of speed out of the little Jet Ranger. Dom hoped that Cait would have filed a report and sent a backup to the Airwolf computers, as arranged. Otherwise they could make use of the Lady's powerful onboard computers, or even her heavy weapons arsenal, if needed. "_At least we have a better chance of getting Cait out with the Lady_," he thought to himself. "_I sure hope Michael and Marella are alright_."

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**A/N: Sorry everyone for the delay, life is getting in the way! Work, to be more precise. I know, I know…it's a terrible reason! **

Dom mopped the sweat from his brow. His fingers were cramping up. He couldn't remember the last time he had sat at the Engineer's Console wearing his belt – the metal buckle was digging painfully into his skin. He wondered if String would notice if he nipped out to his locker and changed into his (beltless) flight suit. Hitting the ENTER key and grunting in satisfaction as the Airwolf computer initiated the search programme he keyed in, he hefted himself out of his chair.

String felt Dom's warm hand clasp his shoulder. "You OK, kid?" a cool bottle of water was proffered over that same shoulder, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Thanks, Dom."

"We'll find some answers soon, I'm sure. Any luck with the report?"

"Some." String spit the word out between tense lips. His rigid spine told Dom that he was worried about their friends. Cait had filed a report for the day she went missing, but through some unknown glitch more than half of it had ended up in gobbledygook. From what String could put together, Cait had two possible suspects – Carter, the primary Research Engineer, and Karakasthi, the computer technician temporarily attached to the division. "_Not bad for a day's work_," thought String to himself, admiringly. From what he could make out, Cait was thorough, factual and to the point. Raising his voice slightly, he said, "Dom, I can't make anything else out. Can you try and get Dr Hansen on the screen for me? She, or someone who works for her, maybe can try and put it some sort of algorithm decoder if the fault was in the transmission or something…."

"Sure, String. I'll patch her right through."

String could hear Dom working the keyboard and speaking into his headset. Eschewing his normal heavy helmet for the much lighter headset, he adjusted the mike and waited. He didn't have to wait long.

"Hawke?" the tiny screen in front of his flickered to life.

"Hi, Dr Hansen."

"Dom's just transmitting Cait's report now. I'll see what I can do with it, I'm not leaving it to one of my techs," said Dr Hansen in a soothing voice.

"Have you heard anything about Michael, Marella or Cait?"

"Well, as soon as I heard, I went up to Michael's office. One of his aides was there – Bianca, I think it was – I don't know her very well, she's new – and she told me that Marella was taking Michael to his therapy appointment, then to a meeting and they weren't expected back today."

"And?" prodded String as Dr Hansen paused.

"So I called his satellite phone…"

"So did we!" interrupted Dom.

Frowning at Dom, String leaned closer to the screen. "And?"

"It was off."

"Yeah."

"I don't know Michael all that well, but isn't it SOP that satellite phones are on 24-7? And Michael is conscientious to a fault…I can't think of a reason why he would turn his phone off. At the very least he would leave for Marella to answer. I've got a bad feeling about this, Hawke."

"I just wish we had some way of finding out what those guys in the R&amp;D department with the laser are doing right now," grumbled Dom.

String could have sworn he saw Dr Hansen wink.

"You do," she said, with a twinkle. "I dropped in the R&amp;D department on my way back to my lab, and left something that I thought might help."

"What?" growled String. As the words left his mouth, String heard a low hum in his headphones, interspersed with a few words of chatter.

"A transmitting microphone. I've patched it through."

"You're brilliant, Dr Hansen."

"I've also left one on Bianca's desk. Between the two of you, and Airwolf, I'm sure you can monitor them both. Dom, did you manage to get both frequencies? I've sent it to your station."

"Yes, thanks Dr Hansen."

String surreptitiously worked the muscles in his clenched jaw, shoulders and back. He grinned to himself. Finally, they had an advantage.

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**A/N: Sorry this took so long, everyone. This danged work thing is still getting in the way! And the worst part it…I work for myself so I have no one else to blame. SORRY!**

Karen got up from the couch. She had spent the last few hours trying to distract herself with the Tom Clancy novel she was reading, but she realised that she had lost the plot completely and would have to re-read most of the book. She glanced at the clock that sat on the bar counter. The florescent hands glowed, telling her that it was well past 2am. Tet whined as he pushed his nose into her hand. As she started to stroke his head, he leaned into her hand.

"Thank goodness you're here, Tet. Is it always like this when you're waiting for him to come home?" said Karen affectionately, scratching him behind his ears. "Maybe we should try and go to bed, huh?"

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

Cait opened her eyes to the feel of a cool cloth on her brow. "Whaaaaa…" she said weakly, trying to grab the hand that she presumed was holding the wet cloth to her forehead.

"It's OK, Cait, it's Marella. Are you OK?"

Cait blinked her eyes a few times to try and adjust to the very low level of light in the room. Slowly, she could make out dim shapes in the darkness. "What the hell happened?"

"Can you remember anything?"

"Not really. I remember that I had just finished typing the report to submit to Archangel and send a copy to the Airwolf computer, when two guys burst into the office I was using. I think they both had guns, 'cos one of them was yelling at me to come away from the computer, while the other one shot out the surveillance camera. I waited till they were close enough, then I threw a left hook under one guy's jaw – which knocked him out cold, before the other guy tried to grab me from behind. I managed to fight him off for a bit, then turned back to the keyboard to transmit the report. I think I managed to get it off, though I can't be sure, and next thing I know is something hitting the back of my head. I think I got shoved to the floor and one of the guys was muttering and cursing and doing some real fast typing on the keyboard, then….I woke up here with you."

Marella let out a soft sigh of relief. If Cait could remember all that much detail, she wasn't badly hurt, and was reasonably _compus mentis_. Now, Archangel, was a completely different kettle of fish. She had walked to the little kitchenette across the passage from Archangel's office suite to brew him a cup of the Italian expresso that he preferred, when she heard a muffled thump and curses. She had hurried to the door of the kitchenette and carefully peeked around the door frame. Seeing nothing amiss, she carefully made her way across the passageway and sneaked into her office. She noticed that her door, which she was usually careful to lock behind her, had been forcibly opened and left ajar. Grabbing her sidearm from her top desk drawer, she had crept to the door that led to Archangel's inner sanctum. Looking cautiously around the open door, she could not see Archangel sitting at his desk. Clicking the safety off, Marella entered the room at a crouch and headed towards Archangel's desk. As she rounded the desk, she saw her boss face down on the carpet, blood trickling from a big bleeding bruise on his right temple. Then she had felt the ice-cold muzzle of a revolver press into her right temple. "Don't try any heroics, missy…or both you and Archangel are DEAD!"

**AWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

"Any names so far, Dom?" asked String, as he rubbed at his tired eyes. He had been monitoring the second microphone, which Dr Hansen had placed on Bianca's desk, while Dom kept listening to the first microphone, planted in the R&amp;D Office. It was now 6pm, and both microphones seemed to have gone silent – hopefully the people in those offices had left for the day.

"Well, from what I can gather, there are three guys who seem to be missing, since earlier this afternoon…their names keep being mentioned by someone who I think is the Manager or something, who keeps asking if anyone's seen them. Jim Rivers, Mick Elphenstein and Tim McCallum. And you?"

"Well, Bianca's obviously communicating with someone through her computer. I keep hearing this continuous clicking of the keyboard and mouse. She's answered a few calls, and said basically the same thing to all of them – Archangel and Marella went to a meeting and were not expected back today."

"OK, let's see if I can get into these guys' files….or maybe the Lady can."

"Give it a try, Dom. I'm going to make us some coffee. I'm bloody useless at that sort of thing."

"Sounds like a plan, String."

String busied himself with brewing strong, thick Italian expresso. He had left the cockpit doors open, and could hear muffled curses interspersed with groans from the Engineering Console. String made his way back to the cockpit, balancing two thermos mugs filled with steaming hot coffee and two huge chocolate chip biscuits. Carefully opening the passenger door and climbing into the Lady, String could hear Dr Hansen's voice over the speakers, giving Dom all the information she had been able to find on the three 'missing' R&amp;D guys. Smiling to himself, he passed Dom a mug and a biscuit, and sat cross-legged on the floor next to the Engineering Console.

"Got all the information we need, Dom?" said String, after hearing Dr Hansen sign off.

"Yup, all we need is a plan."

"So was it those guys?"

"Well, from what Dr Hansen says, it could well be. They've all joined the Firm within the last few months, and they all had qualifications that were specific to LASER technology with a stated interest in military applications. All of them have social security numbers that seem to be within a few digits of each other, even though they're born in different years and months."

"So they're not who they seem to be. Interesting."

"Oh, and get this. They all seem to have worked at Biotron Aeronautics."

String and Dom looked at each other. "John Bradford Horne!" they yelled, simultaneously.

**WAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**

A sudden noise jerked Karen from her restless sleep.

"String?" she said softly, into the darkness. She was answered by Tet's footsteps, padding across to her side of the bed.

Karen chewed her lip, nervously. She had finally fallen asleep at about 3am, and by the luminous hands of the bedside alarm clock, she had barely been asleep for an hour and a half. She was tormented by dreams of String being led away at gunpoint, shot execution-style through his head, or exploded into tiny bits. She hadn't heard from him since he had left yesterday, even though he had promised to keep in touch by phone, to let her know what was happening. She tried to tell herself not to be silly, that String was a trained operative and the best pilot she knew, but she also knew that Stringfellow Hawke was a man that was considerate of her feelings. He knew she would be worried, so the fact that he had not checked in with her sounded ominous. She felt her lower lip start to tremble as an icy fear shot through her. What if he hadn't called her because he couldn't? Because he was hurt, wounded or even dead?

The shrill ring of the satellite phone pierced through her dark thoughts like a ray of sunlight. Ignoring the icy cold floorboards under her feet (she hadn't bothered to light the fire String had laid for her in their bedroom), she ran across to the bureau where she had placed the satellite phone earlier on that night.

Pressing the button to answer the call, Karen held the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Karen? It's String. Sorry to wake you, but I just wanted to let you know that Dom and I are on our way to a stakeout and won't be in contact for another day or so, and I didn't want you to worry."

Karen bit back her tears. "Thanks, String, be careful, and bring Cait home safe, OK? Send my love to Dom."

"Will do. Speak to you soon. Thinking of you." The line went dead.

Karen stood stock still, holding the receiver to her ear. She couldn't stop her tears from running down her cheeks. "_Thank goodness they're alright…well they are for now, anyway,"_ she thought to herself. And tried to ignore that nagging little voice at the back of her head that said, "_But how long are they going to stay that way_?"

**WAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAWAW**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Beep, RASP, beep,WHOOSH, beep, RASP, beep,WHOOSH…_

A sharp pain in his left leg startled Stringfellow Hawke out of his medication-induced daze. He frowned as he squinted, struggling to focus. All he could see was blurry images, patches of white lights with a halo around them. His throat burned, and his arms felt heavy. He supposed he was in a hospital bed somewhere, the soft cotton sheets underneath him smelt strongly of antiseptic and medicine. He suddenly had a thought.

"Michael? Marella? Dom?" he croaked. The voice didn't seem to be his. A series of images began to flash in his mind. An unconscious Michael, blood streaming from a bruise on his temple, hair askew, glasses missing. Cait, staggering off-balance, nylon-encase legs scratched, bruised and bleeding, looking dazed. Dom, yelling at him from the cockpit of the Lady to hurry up. Marella, dirt encrusted, white business suit completely unrecognisable as white, trying her best to help him with Archangel's limp, lifeless form. Flashes of muzzle fire from his Deutonics Combatmaster as he turned sideways to try to cover Archangel, hefted over his left shoulder. The sharp pain as a bullet grazed his right knuckles, almost causing him to lose his grip on his weapon. Then his world going black as he tripped over the last few steps and heard a sickening crack coming from his left leg.

"Mr Hawke? I'm Nurse Tilson. Try not to talk, you've been badly hurt."

"Where's Dom? Michael? Marella? Cait?" String's voice gave out completely on the last syllable, all that came out was a strangled hiss of air.

"Not to worry, Mr Hawke. Let me try and sit you up a little, and give you some water. No, no," she said warningly, as String tried to push himself upright and just about black out in the process, "Let me help you."

Seeing black spots before his eyes, and a buzzing in his ears, String meekly submitted. He had to admit that he wasn't feeling particularly strong at the moment.

A few minutes later, the every-efficient Nurse Tilson had propped String up in his bed, two fluffy pillows behind his head, and given him a very diluted orange juice in a plastic beaker, with a straw to sip it from. His vision was a lot sharper, and he could see that he wasn't alone in the hospital room. Cait, her tousled red mop just visible over the white bedclothes covering her, was in the corner closest to the door. Michael, looking very strange without his eyepatch or glasses, was on a ventilator and heart monitor in the corner furthest away from him.

Just as he was trying to remember what exactly had happened, the door burst open.

"String?!"

"Hey, kid, you're awake!"

"Hawke!"

The three exclamations jerked Cait awake as well.

"Cait!" said all three voices together.

"Hey…" croaked String.

"You look like you've been through the wars, kid. You OK?" said Dom, at first wanting to envelope String in a big bear hug, then thinking the better of it and taking his hand.

Karen covered the distance to String's hospital bed in two quick strides. She didn't say much, but she cupped String's bruised and battered face in her right hand and tried to smile through the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"Hey…I'm still here," croaked out String. "What's with all this PDA?" (_Public Displays of Affection_)

Marella smiled at String as she made her way over to Cait and gave her a hug. "How are you doing, Cait?"

"Fine, I guess. I have a headache like you can't believe, though."

"Well, the good news is, all three of us are back here. The three bad guys are accounted for – one dead, two in the hospital ward with gunshots – good shot, by the way, String. The laser's due to be mounted next week once Dr Hansen is satisfied that there was no sabotage in the programming. She's busy testing the interface right now. Good job all around, I'd say," added Marella.

"Convenient," said String, "Seeing that the Lady won't be going anywhere till I can fly again." He reached out with his left hand to capture Karen's hand in his. He tried to look into her eyes, but for some reason she kept looking on the floor or at Dom, who was on the other side of String's hospital bed.

"So when do we get outta here?" demanded Cait.

"We'll have to check with the doctors, Cait."

"How's Michael doing?" asked Dom.

"He's out of danger, he had a bad concussion which gave us quite a scare – at one point he almost stopped breathing and his heartbeat became really erratic, but his brain activity is back to normal now, and I think I heard the doctor say that he'll be off the ventilator in the next day or two," said Marella. "Oh, and Bianca is in FBI custody – apparently this isn't the only secret she's been trying to sell."

"I always thought there was something fishy about her," said Cait smugly. "This proves it!"

"AND," emphasized Marella, with a dramatic pause, " we HAVE Horne in custody. He's not getting away this time."

Turning away from the sounds of celebration, String snuck another glance at Karen. She was still avoiding his eyes.

"Hey, do you mind if Karen and I had a moment alone?" he croaked out.

"Yeah, sure. Cait, how about Marella and I take you downstairs for some fresh air?" asked Dom, quickly exchanging a look with String.

"Only if you buy me some coffee!"

String waited till the three of them had shuffled out of the room. He cupped Karen's chin and tilted her head upwards to meet his.

"What's wrong, Karen?" He could see how red her eyes were, the shadows under them and how pale she looked.

"I was….so worried about you, String…" whispered Karen, not trusting her own voice.

"Hey, now c'mon, you know the sort of job I do. I'm not saying don't worry, but you know that I WILL come back to you." String tried to put his arms around her, not sure what else to say to comfort her.

"In a body bag, String? I don't know if I can do this! I kept on seeing you lying there in a pool of blood!"

"Yeah, well all I have is a broken leg and assorted bruises and cuts, so it wasn't quite a pool of blood," said String in what he thought was a soothing tone. "You gotta be strong, Karen, and have some faith."

Karen turned away from him and buried her face in her hands. String could see her shoulders shaking as great sobs tore from her throat.

String looked on helplessly. He couldn't get out of bed, and the best he could do was to stroke the nearest shoulder he could reach.

"It's OK, Karen, it's OK…."

"I don't know… what I'd do… if I lost… you. And that scares me… more than you know... I've always been used to… being independent,… on my own, …but when I didn't hear from you it ripped this huge hole in me…" sobbed out Karen.

String's heart ached. He now understood how much hurt Karen had gone through in the time that he had been incapacitated. He had never seen her cry like this, in all the time that they had been going out. "Karen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel like this," trying his best to gentle his tone.

Karen finally turned to face him, and looked into his icy blue eyes. "I think I love you, Stringfellow Hawke."

Much as he wanted to, String couldn't bring himself to say it. It just wasn't the right time. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. "You know, Karen, I only say things I don't mean. And I'm sorry if this hurts you but I can't say it to you, not yet." He tried to look Karen in the eyes, to show her how sincere he was.

Karen pulled out of his embrace. "Good God, Stringfellow Hawke, you bring a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Red Eye to Los Angeles'!" she said, with a twinkle in her eye. "And if you weren't already in a hospital bed I'd break your legs!"

**THE END**


End file.
